Beauty and the Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

weeks—not that he’d admit it to a soul—and he didn’t want to have to leave her again. Last night, he’d stumbled into the streets. Damn near been flattened by a Muni city bus. It still hadn’t erased the queasy feeling in his gut, but it gave him enough strength to get home. After that, he rode his Ducati through the city streets. It’d been the fastest ride of his life. He’d almost died more times than he cared to count.
    The only thing on his mind was having more time with Isabelle.
    She couldn’t go back to Ireland. Not yet.
    “This is the plane we’re taking?” She strode over the red carpet that’d been laid out. “What’s with the grand entrance?”
    “Branson got overexcited.” Reluctantly releasing her hand, Jack finished off his coffee. “It’s not often I have a woman come aboard.”
    “Oh, really?” Her gaze shot to his. “How often is often? No wait, forget I said anything.”
    Rather than answer, he spread his arms wide and guided her toward the small aircraft. “After you.”
    She ducked inside—giving him an unobstructed view of her curves—and took the seat nearest the window. He sat beside her and leaned back in his swivel chair.
    “Never,” he said finally.
    “I’m sorry?”
    “Never.” He buckled in as the door shut behind them and the engines warmed. “I’ve never taken a woman anywhere in my jet.”
    “Oh,” she said, meeting his stare. Pleasure flared in the depths of her eyes. “But if you did, I bet the red carpet treatment would make women fall head over heels in love with you.”
    “I’m not concerned about getting women to fall in love with me.”
    “Is that so?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Because if I recall, you were quick to cry fated wolf the first time we met.”
    “That was different…that was with you,” he said simply, catching her gentle intake of breath at the words. “While we’re on the topic, do you have a love interest back home?”
    Say no, say no.
    Even though there was only one Luminary—one fated mate—for each werewolf in existence, it didn’t mean he or she was going to be celibate until the mate arrived. Quite the contrary, or so he’d heard in certain circles. There were werewolves who liked to have sex with as many partners as possible before meeting their Luminary. That way, when they finally met the person they were going to be with for the next thousand years, they would’ve already played the field.
    He’d never had that urge.
    He’d been too busy building an empire. Collecting valuable property and art. Traveling the world. Seeing new sights and broadening his horizons. He wasn’t a saint—not by a long shot—but he never saw the advantage of whoring around while waiting for his mate.
    Merely thinking about Isabelle having lovers in Ireland had the threat of a growl rumbling in the back of his throat.
    “I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”
    The tightening that’d been in his chest moments before loosened. She caught his eye as if she’d picked up the sudden comfort in him. She took her time finishing off her coffee as they taxied down the runway.
    “And if I do find time,” she continued, “my father finds a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t be involved with someone who isn’t my fated mate.”
    But I’m right here…
    “My father is pretty strict on what I can and can’t do.” Clutching the armrests of her chair, she laid her head back as they lifted off. With a bump and a groan of the engines, they were soaring through the air. “I’m sorry, I’m not particularly fond of planes, and I talk when I’m nervous. Stop me if I’m blabbering too much.”
    “That would never happen.” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but there it was. “I like listening to your voice. It’s soothing.”
    Sliding her head over the headrest, she glanced at him. “So is yours.”
    A moment passed between them, charged with smoldering heat. The air crackled, causing his heart to jump. And then just like that,